


Lost  is  to  Found

by RiddleMeEvil



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: AU, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky doesn’t quite know what he remembers, Bucky remembers, Gen, Hydra, M/M, Post TWS, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, The Asset - Freeform, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, they deserve better than what marvel is giving them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-10-08 11:47:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17385920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiddleMeEvil/pseuds/RiddleMeEvil
Summary: Short, not sweet?Maybe?My second posting in this fandom.





	Lost  is  to  Found

**Author's Note:**

> Short, not sweet?
> 
> Maybe?
> 
> My second posting in this fandom.

The Asset has been contained for the past twelve hours and fourteen minutes, unmoving in his cell. His scheduled wipe has been forgotten in the sudden rush of activity on-base, hurried footsteps and hushed voices echoing though the halls.   
He’s heard little of what’s happening and doesn’t care— it will not affect him; his mind is free (in a sense; nothing about him is actually free) to wander— and so it focuses on the bridge.

More specifically, the man. The words. 

A name. 

B u c k y . 

It had been spoken with a conviction and knowledge that couldn’t be faked, a thousand memories shielded within blueblue eyes that pierced the terrible haze of nothingness that was the Asset’s everything. 

It was meaning, it gave him meaning. Something to latch onto— a name meant a person, a life; 

M e m o r i e s. 

Things the Asset had never thought about, was conditioned to forget. Things the Asset suddenly feared having lost, once upon a time. 

He couldn’t shake those eyes from his mind. 

A long buried, thought dead part of him chanted, I knew him. I knew him. 

The man on the bridge. Blueblue eyes. 

I knew him. 

A sliver of a memory— t h o s e eyes staring down at— him?— with a heartbreaking, joyous relief; frantic hands pulling away leather straps from his chest; a breathy voice— “It’s me. It’s Ste—“ shattering into nothing in his broken, broken mind. 

I knew him. 

Footsteps sound in the hall, a heavy object being dragged along the dirty floor. 

His head snaps up, eyes made carefully blank; the Asset as he should be. 

A creak of metal, and sudden light piercing the dark cell, and he can see four of his handlers, throwing a heavy body in with him before slamming the door shut again. 

A blond head lifts, and then— 

And then. 

Blueblue eyes meet his own. 

A part of him screams and cries and shouts with joy.


End file.
